The Midnight Carnival (6 page)

The air in the main tent was still humid and thick with the breath of the last audience. It had been packed, as usual, and now, with the seats virtually empty, the ghostly scent of the absent crowd made for a gloomy atmosphere.

Felix Renaud, the ringmaster, stood centre-stage, whipping his riding crop back and forth through the dust at his feet. It was a sign of impatience, and the seats were quickly filled by performers and roustabouts as the whipping got quicker and quicker.

‘Eighty years.’ The light voice he saved for the customers
was gone, replaced by a deep, throaty growl. ‘Eighty years enslaved, imprisoned. Eighty years…’

He stared into the distance for a long time, but no member of the carnival dared to break the silence. He whipped the riding crop again and smiled, baring his blackened teeth.

‘However, hope is on the horizon, friends. Hope comes to us all, and you better be ready.’ The riding crop pointed feverishly at random faces in the audience. ‘’Cos this time we’re getting out. And no soul is gonna stop us!’

The crop lingered on a boy sat at the very back of the bleachers. His green, scaly face showed no expression, but the muscular woman in front of him reached back and patted his arm protectively.

‘This time we’re getting out,’ the ringmaster repeated.

He walked the line of performers in the front row, receiving encouraging nods from the group of grim-faced clowns.

At one end of the front bench, where Felix had placed it, sat a wooden box with curling petals carved into the lid. It shuddered at the sound of the crop whipping once more, so much so that its lid popped open and snapped shut again. Cool air filled the space as Felix’s laughter echoed around the tarpaulin walls.

5

The Doctor

Grace felt sick. In her hurry to join the girls at the carnival again that morning, she had gone without breakfast. It was after five o’clock, and all she’d eaten all day was candy floss, popcorn and a bagful of sugared nuts. She had wanted to visit Drake and Agata’s tent much earlier, but the others had such a long list of performances they wanted to see and carnival rides they wanted to go on that she had had to wait until late afternoon. She had wondered why Drake wasn’t part of the main show in the evening, and she was eager to see what he could do.

Adie was missing from the group that day. Oddly, she had told two different stories: Rachel that she had to help clean out the garage at home, and Delilah that she wasn’t feeling well. Grace suspected she was bored with the carnival,
and didn’t want to go on any more vomit-inducing rides. It was the last day of the holidays; she couldn’t blame Adie for wanting to chill out at home and do nothing.

As they made their way through the packed stalls, Jenny seemed eager to see Agata again. She had been very taken with the idea of weightlifting, and Grace was sure she had seen the tall girl flexing her muscles beneath her hoody more than once during the day. Delilah was also keen to see the strongwoman’s show, but Una and Rachel had to be dragged along.

‘That tent is teeny,’ Una complained. ‘How good can it be?’

‘So what if it’s small?’ Jenny snapped. ‘Agata was awesome during the main show. You saw her.’

‘Yeah, the one with the weights, I remember. It was okay, I guess.’

‘Okay? That stuff weighs–’

‘Let’s just go, Una,’ Rachel interrupted. ‘It won’t take long and then we can go get some hotdogs.’

The tent was a fraction the size of the red-and-white striped spectacle and, with only a few kerosene lamps to light it, it was quite gloomy inside. There was a small platform in the centre that looked homemade, just planks of uneven timber nailed together, and Grace didn’t think it could fit both performers at once.

It didn’t have to. Agata was up first. Confined to the tiny
stage, she couldn’t do the tremendous anvil-throwing that had startled them during the main show, but she had a selection of dumbbells that looked progressively heavier. She did some poses first, flexing her enormous biceps, and showing off the massive chiselled muscles in her calves. At first, she just lifted the weights, then threw them in the air and caught them, then got some gasps from the audience as she juggled three of the largest. To finish off the performance she invited six kids to sit on a low wooden bench next to the platform, then lifted it clear above her head. She grinned widely at the girls, holding the bench aloft like it was no trouble at all, the kids squealing and laughing as their feet dangled in the air.

There were whoops and cheers as Agata took a bow, then Drake quietly replaced her on the stage. Some sitar music started up from offstage, and the twanging notes of the guitar-like instrument created a mysterious atmosphere. Drake’s blue eyes scanned the crowd, and Grace found herself checking her chin for any traces of candy floss, and sweeping a few loose strands of hair off her face. The boy didn’t engage the audience with big smiles, like Agata had, but he was hypnotic nonetheless. He opened his arms wide, as if to welcome them, then bent backwards into a crab position. His feet lifted slowly off the ground to point forwards, then his back curved so tightly he was able to raise his head and look straight at those in front. Lowering onto his elbows, his feet then pulled back to rest under his chin.

Grace was transfixed, but also aware of the junk-food discomfort in her tummy. Watching Drake twist and turn into improbable shapes made her feel all the more queasy. She hoped it didn’t show in her face, especially when he caught her gaze and flashed a barely there smile. It didn’t quite fit with his super-cool performance, but she liked that he did it anyway.

As his performance continued, the green-skinned boy appeared to have bones made of jelly – he turned to the side, making a c-shape with his whole body, then did some push-ups where his back was arched allowing him to tuck his feet into his armpits. But the big finish came when Agata brought out a glass box and rested it on the stage with a door open on one side. It was perhaps big enough to fit a child half Drake’s size. But he crouched down next to the open door and slid one bent leg inside until the knee was lodged firmly in the top corner opposite. Then, hunching his shoulders and ducking his head, he pushed most of his body into the box. With his one free arm he shunted his head along the glass front, further and further, until it rested almost against his far knee. With one final flourish, he kicked out his free leg, pointed the toe, and curled the limb inside. Agata reappeared, beaming brightly, and closed the glass door.

There was a flurry of clapping and cheering, and Grace couldn’t believe that that ball of tangled limbs was a boy, bigger and taller than her, squashed inside that tiny box. Una
turned to her, her hands clapping furiously, and an expression of pure delight on her face.

‘That was really gross!’

Grace laughed. ‘Okay.’

‘Seriously. Totally gross. So glad we came to this.’

The applause continued as Drake unfurled from the glass box and took a sweeping bow. He looked for Grace again and smiled at her.

‘You’re gone all red.’ Rachel was watching Grace with narrowed eyes.

‘No, I’m not.’

‘Yes, you are.’

‘It’s warm in here.’

Rachel turned back to the stage, still clapping and smirking slightly.

‘It’s not that warm.’

The girls couldn’t get tickets for the main show that night, but they hung around the emptying park anyway, playing a few games at the stalls that were still open and wandering around the red-and-white striped tent listening to the cheering of the audience. It was officially a school night, and Grace knew they would all be in trouble for getting home late, but these were the last precious moments of summer and they wanted to cherish them. When the crowd finally
filed out of the big top, and the lights went out, the girls drifted towards Justine’s tent, hoping to get a glimpse of the bearded girl before they all went home.

‘Hey there.’ She strolled towards them, pulling hairpins out of her soft, brown curls so they tumbled to her shoulders. ‘Didn’t catch you guys at the show tonight.’

‘We couldn’t get tickets,’ Rachel replied.

‘Well, goodness, you shoulda come to me. I’d have got you in.’

She smiled as she ducked under the tarpaulin door of her tent, and held it up for them. They followed her inside and sat on the cot bed and stools, watching her wipe off her stage make-up.

‘Something the matter? Y’all seem a little down in the dumps.’

‘School starts tomorrow,’ said Grace. ‘We should really get going. It’s late.’

‘How about we feed you a little something first? Can’t be sending you home with empty bellies now, can we? That wouldn’t be neighbourly.’

Grace grinned with the others as Justine led them out of her tent to a large marquee, sheltered behind a line of trailers. It was filled with long, fold-out tables and chairs, and every performer the girls had seen in the past few days sat gobbling up bowls of delicious-smelling stew.

‘Take a seat. I’ll go rustle you up some grub.’

Across the tables Grace spied Agata and Drake. She waved at them; Drake looked at her but only Agata waved back, and neither of them got up to join the girls.

‘I guess they’re wrecked after all the shows today,’ Jenny said.

She sounded as disappointed as Grace felt. ‘Guess so.’

‘Beef strew with all the trimmings.’ Justine had arrived back with a large tray. ‘Eat up.’

The stew of chunky beef, carrots and potatoes, tasted as good as it smelled. The girls ate as much as they could stuff in on top of all the hotdogs, candy floss and popcorn they had eaten that day, but they couldn’t ignore that everyone was taking sly glances at them as they ate.
Maybe they don’t have outsiders for dinner very often
, Grace thought.

‘We saw a great show today,’ Una said, breaking the silence.

‘Is that right?’ said Justine.

‘Yeah, with the strongwoman. Agnes, is it?’

‘Agata.’

‘Right. She was cool, but the boy with the green skin was amazing. He squished himself into this tiny box, it looked like he had no bones.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘How come he’s not in the main show? You should put him in, he’s fantastic.’

‘It’s not up to me, that’s Felix’s decision. You know, the ringmaster.’

‘I’ll say it to him if I see him. He’s missing a trick there.’

‘You gotta be a tight group for the main show, you know? It’s a fast-moving thing and you gotta work together.’ Justine picked at her dinner. ‘Drake doesn’t work great with others. He likes to do his own thing.’

‘He seems to get on well with Agata,’ said Grace.

‘Sure, she’s like a mom to him. But everyone else…’

Grace noticed then that Agata and Drake sat alone. All the other tables filled up, but theirs remained strangely empty, except for one tall man that now joined them. He wore a long, dark trenchcoat and a hat with a brim that shaded his eyes, fingerless gloves and heavy, leather boots. He sat one chair away from Agata, nodded slowly at her, then set his gaze at Grace and her friends. Grace recognised him as the sorcerer from the main show, who had created a minifireworks display inside the tent with a mix of chemicals and weirdly shaped instruments.

‘Who’s that?’ asked Delilah.

‘That’s the doctor,’ Justine replied. ‘At least that’s what they call him.’

‘Why?’

‘He was a medical doctor once. Lost his licence though. There were rumours going round… Anyway, he joined the carnival after that.’ The ballerina shook her head. ‘You don’t concern yourselves with him now, you hear?’

‘What you do mean?’ said Rachel.

‘He’s not… He doesn’t like outsiders. You give him a wide berth and you’ll be fine.’

The man raised a skinny cigar to his lips and lit it.

‘He’s looking at you now.’

‘Yeah,’ Justine said, stacking their empty bowls onto the tray. ‘He doesn’t like me neither.’

The bearded girl got them toffee apples from the dessert table, and they all strolled back towards her tent chewing on the sticky fruit.

‘I hope this won’t be your last visit, just cos you’re starting back to school.’

‘No way,’ said Una. ‘We’ll be back here every evening as long as the carnival’s here. How long are you staying?’

Justine delicately picked at her apple, avoiding getting her beard stuck in the toffee.

‘Couldn’t say. We don’t stick to no schedule. But I think we’re gonna be here for a while.’

***

Grace’s mum was cross when she finally phoned for a lift home.

‘Do you know what time it is? You’ve got school tomorrow.’

‘Sorry, mum, we just forgot the time.’

‘Did you even get a proper dinner, or have you been eating sugar all day?’

‘We had some beef stew.’

The was silence, then her mum sighed.

‘I’ll be there in a few minutes. But this is the last time, okay? No more late nights.’

Grace waved goodbye to the others and waited by the entrance of the carnival in the dark. The stars twinkled above her, and the whisper of the wind through the leaves of the trees made her smile. She’d had a really good last day of freedom.

Then another whisper caught her attention. It came from behind her. Creeping back into the park Grace could make out the silhouette of two figures by the first trailer. One voice rose in anger, but not loud enough for her to make out what they were saying. Tiptoeing closer, she ducked behind a tree and strained to hear.

‘Patience. It’s out of your hands for now.’ The first voice was deep, forceful.

‘But it’s not out of yours.’ The second voice was Drake’s, Grace was sure of it. ‘You could strike now if you only had the guts.’

‘Ah, the petulance of youth. Only a fool attacks who knows he’ll lose. Bide your time, lizard boy.’

There was a growl and one of the figures stalked off. There wasn’t much light from the stars, but Grace saw the hint of green skin. In the shadows the second figure stood in silence, an ember glowing in the dark.